I FEEL sympathy for William Hague even though, it seems to me, he has been a bit of a political tomnoddy. He chose to share a room on the election trail with a 25-year-old male aide he had hired... and set hares running.

But I am less concerned about him right now.

If allegations are made about a politician, especially a minister, it is right and proper that they are responsibly aired. And in Hague’s case strongly denied.

There is, however, something that makes me cringe about this whole bizarre episode. No, not that photo of our Foreign Secretary sporting a baseball cap yet again and wearing shades that he probably thought trendy.

It is the impact of the story of the accusation and denial on one person... Mr Hague’s wife Ffion.

There is something sadly humiliating about the detail of the personal statement that William Hague, rightly or not, judged it necessary to issue.

I felt deeply uncomfortable reading such intimate information about the multiple miscarriages that Ffion, in particular, has had to cope with. It must be hard enough to deal with such distress in private. The last thing she needed was for such painful details to become a subject of public scrutiny.

The speculation that prompted Mr Hague’s vibrant denial emerged following pressure piled on by political bloggers including the widely-read Guido Fawkes. They fanned the flames ignited by the gunpowder of rumour.

How sad that poor Ffion is the person who, I fear, has been left most badly scorched